


My Name is Tiberius

by FalliciousPuns



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, It's a really convoluted and complicated au ok, Jim is a Little Shit, Spock in Sunglasses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 12:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16158935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalliciousPuns/pseuds/FalliciousPuns
Summary: Khan Noonien Singh is the captain of the USS Enterprise.  Alongside Commander Spock, his First Officer, Khan’s crew is one of the galaxy’s finest.  However, when a secure Starfleet Facility in London is bombed, the crew of the Enterprise realizes that they’ve fallen into the deep end.  James Tiberius Kirk is awake.





	My Name is Tiberius

“I’d like to congratulate you once again on the successful neutralization of that Volcano, Khan.”

That made Khan smile slightly as he looked over towards the impassive Vulcan beside him.  “Thank you, Admiral Pike, but all the credit goes to Commander Spock.  He was the only one I could trust enough not to falter when being lowered into a volcano.”  From the corner of his eye, Khan thought that he could see the edge of Spock’s lips lift ever so slightly. 

“You both work extremely well together,” Pike noted, leaning further back in his chair in a fatherly manner.

Spock stepped forward.  “It is always refreshing to have a captain who is as dedicated to logic as one’s self.” He paused, either considering his words carefully, or for dramatic effect.  “And to have one that is willing to risk everything for his crew.”  The Vulcan seemed to be opening for some sales pitch, and Khan thought he knew which one.  “It has come to our attention that there are plans for a five-year mission into the frontiers of space, and Captain Singh and I are quite interested in-“

At this moment, an urgent beeping interrupted Spock’s spiel and all three men fell silent.  Admiral Pike accepted the incoming call, and Khan watched as his face fell.

“There has been an attack.  On a facility in London.  Earth. The meeting’s in a few hours.” 

Khan was already on his feet, helping the Admiral into his chair.  None of them needed to ask what the meeting was for. 

 

As Khan sat down in the chair around the circular table, he immediately noticed the face projected onto his personal screen and took in the young man’s short brassy-golden hair, his aggressively strong cheeks, nose and chin, and last but not least his incredibly blue eyes.  Khan thought that there must be some sort of glitch in the computer which caused the intense blueness in the man’s eyes, for they looked to hold all the intensity of the oceans within them.  The name below the image read ‘John Harrison’.  A bizarrely bland name for such a vivacious young man, Khan thought.  Beside him, Spock was glaring at his own touchscreen, which showed a 3D simulation of the explosion’s aftermath.  Khan trusted that the Vulcan was on to something and zoned back in to the discussion.

“-as gone rogue and stolen a jumpship.  He appears to be targeting our advanced facilities, as the database in London merely serves as a cover for Section 31.  Our first course of action must be to-“

Out of the corner of his eye, Khan saw Spock’s head snap up at the mention of a jumpship.  He raised his hand, eyes sharper than usual.

“Yes, Commander Spock?”

The Vulcan spoke quickly, urgently.  “If he had the knowledge that London was a secret facility, then he is aware of the protocol that commands us all to meet exactly here, in this room. All of Starfleet’s top officers in-“

And that was when all hell broke loose. 

The opaque windows that overlooked sunny San Francisco exploded in a spray of deadly glass as a jumpship tore through it, sheering metal beams as it plowed across the marble floor towards the table.

“Everyone, _move_!” Khan yelled, grabbing Spock by the uniform and shoving him out of harm’s reach.  They barely made it behind a column before the kamikaze came to a stop exactly where the table had been. Those who had been closest to the window were not as lucky as he had been.  In horror, Khan saw that their bodies had been crushed by the invader’s ship, projectiles of glass finishing what the shuttle had started.  There was a foreboding silence.  A figure emerged from the wreckage.  A silhouette in a long, dark coat, and a phaser grasped in one hand. 

Spock had been dazed by the light and sound of the explosion, but now regained his senses.  He made to speak, but Khan clamped a hand down over his Science Officer’s mouth. He had a feeling that it would be unwise to be seen.  For obvious reasons.

Quietly, Khan reached for his own phaser.  Additionally, he buzzed the communicator he carried, hoping that it would alert someone- _anyone_ to the present emergency.  Then he turned back to the haunting silhouette looming out of the dust of a thousand shards of shattered glass.  The figure knelt down by a groaning form on the floor, arm reaching out to examine the wounded captain’s face. 

Behind the pillar, Khan and Spock were only ten feet away, so they could make out even the faintest of whispers.

“You,” came a hoarse voice Khan did not recognize.  The attacker’s then.  Most likely this ‘John Harrison’ fellow.  “Where is Christopher Marcus?” The voice seethed with anger, fueled by untold fury.

“I would rather _die_ than betray the Federation,” spat the man on the ground.  Khan recognized it as one of the other captains that he’d met briefly at meetings before.  He wanted desperately to vomit.

“Then so be it.  You are all guilty in any case,” the attacker snarled.  Horrified, Khan saw that the figure lowered his phaser and reached out to the wounded man’s neck with his free hand.  Wet, jagged choking noises followed immediately, and Khan looked away just before he heard the final _snap_.  Who _was_ this man?

The utter silence that followed was one of the most terrifying in his life. Spock touched his arm gently, so as to avoid startling him, and pointed over behind another column.  Admiral Pike lay on the floor, bleeding badly from a shard of glass that had pierced his torso, but otherwise still alive. Although for how much longer remained to be seen.

“I know you’re there,” came the voice.  It burned with fire.  That voice would eat away everything.  “Behind the column.  I can hear your _breath_.”

Across from Khan and Spock, Admiral Pike froze.  _No_ , Khan thought,  _he can’t take Pike away from me!_ The admiral was like a father to the young Captain. His parents, wealthy and always busy, had never been present during his childhood; Pike had practically adopted him once Khan had joined Starfleet Academy.

In a rush, Khan staggered out from behind the column, eyes wild and boring into the man in front of him.

John Harrison was slightly taller than average, with an imposing posture to match his furious blue eyes.  Khan was shocked.  The digital display had not been faulty- the man’s eyes really were as magical as they appeared. 

“And you?” the man asked.  His voice was low, but easily filled the entire room.  “Do you know where Marcus is, that unforgivable piece of filth?” The last words came out as an animalistic snarl as Harrison’s lips turned up in a sneer.

“Go to hell!” Khan shouted.  His phaser was already aimed at the other man’s chest and his blood was boiling. Even so, some part of him was mentally praying that backup was already on the way and that maybe he could hold off Harrison until help arrived.  That way, Pike would be safe.  “I won’t let any harm come to my f- to Starfleet,” he continued, stumbling over the words. 

His mistake seemed to have piqued the intruder’s interest, for he tilted his head to the side a degree.  “Your family,” he said.  The voice, as well as the eyes, were unreadable.  “You _slaughter_ my own family and expect me to spare yours?”

Faster than Khan could react, Harrison materialized before him, knocking his phaser out of his grasp.  It was all the captain could do to duck the next blow.  Khan made a futile attempt to knee him in the stomach, but Harrison moved with inhuman speed and avoided the blow.  He also caught Khan’s arm in a vice grip and _twisted_.  Even above his own screams, Khan heard the sickening pop of his shoulder dislocating.  Then he was pressed into the ground, hands tightening around his neck.  _No… No… Not like this… There was still, so much more…_

“Step away from him, Harrison,” came a gravelly voice.  Admiral Pike was leaning like a frail castle of cards against his pillar.  The glass still protruded from his belly.  Even as Harrison turned to face his new opponent, Pike fired three stun blasts into his chest.

The man’s body spasmed for an instant, but otherwise, Harrison was only knocked back.  He did however relinquish his grip on Khan’s throat.  Khan in turn rolled over, gasping and retching and clawing at the ground. His shoulder felt like it was on fire.

“Admiral Pike,” the blond man rasped.  Although his appearance was mostly well-kempt, some of the shattered glass had clearly pierced Harrison’s skin.  Several drops of blood trickled down his temple and from a shallow cut on his cheek.  “By all accounts, you are a good man.”

“I don’t know you, nor why you’re hell-bent on our destruction.  But I _will_ set this phaser to kill if you don’t step away from Captain Singh and surrender yourself now.”  Pike’s phaser shook in his weak grip.

John Harrison bared his teeth in a snarl, backing away and raising his hands. 

Khan felt Spock dragging him away from the confrontation by his uninjured shoulder. He wanted to scream, scream for Pike not to throw his life away, to run, but Spock was covering his mouth and trying to make them seem inconspicuous.

“Quiet, Captain.  Pike is trying to buy us time.  Help is on the way.”

But would help be on the way fast enough? Khan thought.  They had just collapsed behind another pillar when Khan mustered the strength to look back at the scene.  Light shone through the dust-choked air, turning Harrison and Pike back into silhouettes. 

Then, Harrison moved.  Pike reacted instantly despite his injury, but Harrison was too quick.  He dropped to the floor, reaching for something discarded-

_Khan’s phaser._

All Khan saw was a blast of light illuminate his mentor.  There was a look of surprise on Pike’s face.

“No!”

At the precise moment that he screamed, the door was bashed open by dozens of uniformed officers.  Help had arrived.  Too late.

Harrison’s brilliant blue eyes snapped towards the sound and they widened. He snarled out a curse, turned and fled. Shimmering light weaved around him. Khan struggled, trying to rise to his feet for revenge.

“He’s trying to beam out!” Spock cried to the newly-arrived officers while he used his entire weight to restrain Khan.

Harrison let out a cry of frustration and retreated into the dust cloud. On the floor, Khan twisted out of Spock’s grip and scrambled to his feet.  Before the Vulcan could stop him, he was sprinting into the mist.

“ _Harrison_!” he roared.  He was going to tear the man apart with his _bare hands_.  He was deep in the dust now, unable to see anything beyond a few feet in front of him.  Nevertheless, he tore onwards to the light ahead.  And then suddenly, he was standing on the very edge of the precipice, exactly where the window had been minutes before.  The gentle San Francisco breeze had done away with the dust up here, and as soon as Khan had emerged, he saw his enemy shimmering faintly only a few feet away from him.  It could have been an illusion created by the beaming technology, but something glistened on the man’s cheeks as he looked Khan over with those fierce blue eyes.

“My name is not Harrison.”

Khan was momentarily frozen in shock from the man’s sudden appearance, so he did not immediately leap at the man’s throat.

He began to tip over the edge and out the window, the wind ruffling his hair and the sun making it look like fields of gold. “I am James Tiberius Kirk.”  And then he tumbled out the window, long coat billowing around him, his edges glowing.  About half way down the skyscraper, he simply dissolved into tendrils of light.

“No!” Khan cried again as hands gripped him by both shoulders, his waist- pulling him back from the edge.  His dislocated shoulder seared in pain, and his eyes burned with tears. 

 

* * *

 

Starfleet had no time to rest.  The moment McCoy had popped Khan’s shoulder back into place and both he and Spock had passed their medical and concussion tests, a process which only took forty minutes, they were rushed to a secured room deep underneath the Bay Area.

The Captain and his First Officer conferred during their walk over, and once the details of their encounter with James Tiberius Kirk had been laid before him, Spock had concluded that Admiral Marcus seemed to be the source of their attacker’s madness.  Although they had avoided Admiral Pike’s death, both noted Kirk’s incredible strength and reflexes as well as deduced that the man had augmented senses such as enhanced hearing. 

“Admiral Marcus is the key.  Kirk asked for him specifically,” Spock said. 

Khan merely nodded; Pike’s last moments were burned into his mind, and it was all he could muster after Spock had forced him to recall everything that had happened over the past few hours.

“Additionally, the man mentioned the murder of his family.  However, in the context of the conversation, he may not have only meant blood-relatives, but also those that share a close bond with him.  I believe he targeted Admiral Marcus for revenge.”

“We’ve already talked about this,” Khan snapped.

“I am merely trying to divert your attentions from Admiral Pike.”

Khan let out a long sigh.  It sounded like a gas leak, and all he needed was a spark.  “I’m going to kill him,” he growled. 

A door slid open in front of them and they passed through into a room filled with blinking lights, military simulation models and maps.  Guards lined the exits, and every single face looked grim. Admiral Marcus greeted the two newcomers.  Khan noticed that he too bore signs of injury.  The side of his head had a nasty cut across it, as did his lip.  Those were most likely from the explosion of glass earlier.  He also held his arm in a sling.

“Greetings, Captain Singh, Commander Spock.”  His voice was low, as if he were about to propose something extremely grave in nature.

Khan shook his hand.  “Just Khan. I assume you’ve chosen us to undergo a discreet assassination?”

“Khan, you’re just as bright as Admiral Pike said,” Marcus said, gripping his hand.  Khan expression tightened at the mention of Pike.  “We’ve tracked where Harrison beamed us to, but it’s not pretty: Qo’noS.”

Khan swore.  “Klingon home planet.”

“Luckily, he seems to have a hideout in an uninhabited area.”

Khan’s eyes gleamed, and he took a moment to consider the possibilities.  At this moment, Spock cut in uncharacteristically. “Admiral, we suspect that there is much we still do not know about Harrison due to a lack of security clearance. However, should we attempt an extraction,” Spock began, refusing to acknowledge the possibility of an assassination, “It would be beneficial to have as much information as possible.” It was Spock’s gentle rebuke that Khan had grown accustomed to.

Admiral Marcus looked unabashed.  “He is a highly dangerous ex-operative who goes by many names.”

“Such as James Kirk?”  Spock queried.

Marcus froze.  For an instant, there was nothing but high-strung tension holding his body together. Then the moment passed and Marcus’ composure reappeared.  Khan realized that the rest of the operations room had grown silent, but now resumed a low chatter. 

“Yes,” Marcus muttered.  He cleared his throat, as if the matter was settled which, if Spock had been human, would have made him consider gritting his teeth.  “I approached you two because you are not only Starfleet’s most effective commanding officers, but you also have a personal stake in this manhunt. Khan, I understand you and Christopher were very close.”

“Admiral Pike was like a father to me,” Khan said.  He pressed his lips firmly together.

“I want revenge as much as you do for all the lives we have lost so far.” He turned, indicating a screen. “These are highly destructive proton-torpedoes,” he said, indicating the images that had just popped up on the screen. “And they’re completely untraceable. If the Klingons _do_ register the attack, it will not provoke a war unless you are discovered in Klingon space.  If you agree to this mission, then our experts in Section 31 can load the rockets onto the Enterprise.”

Spock opened his mouth to disagree with almost everything: the assassination which went against all Starfleet protocol, the torpedoes that he doubted were  _completely_ untraceable, and even the possibility of igniting war with the Klingons. But Khan opened his mouth first.

“We’ll do it.” Khan’s eyes blazed, and so Spock shut his mouth in deference.  He was to act as advisor, not make the Captain’s decisions for him, after all.

 

Later, as they were making preparations for the journey aboard the Enterprise, Spock broached the subject again: “The Admiral is still not telling us everything.  Additionally, the order to assassinate rather than capture suggests an ulterior motive.”

“We all want _revenge_ , Spock,” Khan said.  “I don’t  _care_ if he has an ulterior motive.”    

“Even so, killing is outside our jurisdiction as Starfleet officers.  We are not assassins.”

Khan gave a terse laugh.

“Captain-“

“Listen, if you don’t want to do this, then you’re free to leave, just like Scotty.”

“He left?” This was news to Spock.

“He took issue with the torpedoes.  Chekov is running engineering for this mission.”

Spock had his misgivings about the mission, but Khan’s irrational actions had saved both the crew and Spock’s own life many times before; who was he to question Khan now?  No, he was thinking about this illogically- just because the Captain had been right in the past did not mean that he could not make a wrong decision, especially when he was _this_ emotionally compromised.  Spock braced himself for an angry rebuke as he began, “Captain, I propose that we capture Kirk alive instead.”

Khan’s eyes were cold, and he seemed to be about to disagree, but he took a breath and steadied himself.  “Go on.  What is your reasoning?”

“With all due respect, Admiral Marcus is hiding something from us.  Kirk has augmented abilities.  He dodged Pike’s shot after all.  If Marcus wanted us to succeed, would he not have told us?  For this reason, I suggest we capture Kirk alive for questioning and a trial back on planet Earth.”

Khan’s eyebrows furrowed.  Spock could see him debating between taking sweet revenge or the right course of action.

“And we can more easily avoid the possibility of war with the Klingons if we capture him with a small party.”  Spock hesitated for an instant, unsure of weather to deal the final blow.  “Admiral Pike gave his life for Starfleet’s goals: peace between all races.  He would not have wanted a war over his death.”

He saw Khan make up his mind.  “Fine,” the dark-haired man said, but hate still burned in his eyes.  “We get him, we get out, we question him, and make sure he spends the rest of his life in a cell.” 

Spock nodded.  “We will need to arrange an extraction party.  I volunteer myself and Lieutenant Uhura.  I also may deduce that you wish to come considering your emotional investment in this mission.”

“You deduce correctly,” Khan said darkly.  “And make no mistake.  If it even _looks_ like he’s about to harm _any_ of us, I will take the shot and take it gladly.”

Spock blinked slowly, indicating that he really couldn’t have hoped to expect anything else, then went to gather up Uhura and several other officers that specialized in armed combat while Khan brooded in the captain’s chair.

As they shot off into warp speed, Khan had Spock run a search through all the databases for both ‘John Harrison’ and ‘James Tiberius Kirk’.  What they found for Harrison was intriguing. 

Khan indicated a date on one of the screens. “All those files, birth certificate, passport, driving license, these were all uploaded on the same date, almost a year ago.”

Spock nodded.  “Most likely fake then.  Records are always updated on a regular basis.  And look there.” He indicated the small biography.  “He worked for Admiral Marcus directly.  A weapons technician by trade.  And the university degrees are also dated to last year as well.”

“I am so glad I listened to your advice,” Khan conceded. “Marcus is too suspicious for my liking by far.  The alias Harrison is too recent.  Maybe Kirk dates back further?”  He rubbed his chin as Spock ran the name through.

“Dead, dead, dead, ninety-six year old from France,” Khan counted them off as Spock scrolled down the list of names.  “Well that’s interesting,” he remarked finally. He’d now read the word ‘Tiberius’ so many times that he was unsure of how it was supposed to be spelled. “Kirk’s middle name is Tiberius, as in the dictator from the late twentieth century,” he mused.  “Must have had weird parents.” 

“There’s also a connection to Captain Kirk of the USS Kelvin,” Spock added, and then as Khan corked an eyebrow, “The one that disappeared into the wormhole several decades ago.  They share several physical features including hair and eye colour.”

Khan shrugged.  “Interesting, Spock, but unless the wormhole threw them back in time like it did with those Romulans, which doesn’t even make _sense_ -“ he trailed off, another thought interrupting. He frowned.  “Try a different spelling of Tiberius, Spock.”  They went through _Tibirius_ , _Tibiereus_ and _Tyberius_ and eventually through some of the more ridiculous ones such as _Tiebeereeus_.  Then they tried all the combinations of _Kirk, Kirc, Kirc, Circ, Cirk_ … Still nothing as they approached Qo’noS. 

With an hour left to go in the journey, the strike team all changed into ‘arms dealer’ attire: lots of black and leather.

“Didn’t they wear clothes like this back in the 20th Century?” Sulu asked as everyone was leaving the bridge in their getup. 

“Weapons fashion is dated, what can I say?” Uhura muttered much to everyone else’s amusement.  “Speaking of which, does everyone have their phasers?”  She unzipped her leather jacket, revealing a laser pistol on each of her hips.

Khan brushed his unruly mop of hair off his face and patted his own jacket in three different places, then his grey-splotched camouflage-pattern trousers’ pockets.  “I’ve got five,” he declared.  Both of them looked at Spock. 

Spock was wearing a black turtleneck with matching trousers.  He only had one gun, which sat in its holster around his hip.  “Put on the sunglasses,” Uhura said, not even bothering to hide her smile. 

“Really, this is not necessary.  There will not be much light when we arrive on the pl-“

“Put them on, Spock.  They complete the disguise.”

He did.  They had circular frames and the lenses were as reflective as mirrors. Uhura’s grin widened.  “You, good officer, are from another age.”

A small noise made both Uhura and Spock turn to Khan. He had cracked a small grin, and continued chuckling quietly.  The first time he’d laughed since Pike.  As soon as Khan noticed, his face hardened again.  “Let’s get going,” he commanded before saying into his communicator:  “Chekov, what’s the status of our warp drive?” 

“It is still down Captain!” the young boy said loudly into the commlink.  Khan could hear the hiss of steam and the usual mechanical beeps that he usually associated with Scotty in the background.  “But I think I can have it fixed for when you return!”

“Thank you, Mr. Chekov,” Khan replied, and cut the link.  “I sure hope he can,” he muttered as he ushered the rest of the team into the small transport ship.  He’d chosen it among several ships that they’d had to confiscate on their patrols because it bore no Starfleet markings, was reasonably fast, but not outstanding enough to draw unwanted attention.  Uhura, Spock, Helga, Kato and Amalia.  They had better all make it back.

The ship undocked from the Enterprise and soared towards Qo’noS at full speed.  Meanwhile, Sulu transmitted an ultimatum to Kirk.  Would Sulu actually use the missiles?  Khan had left it up to him.  If there was a legitimate need to fire on Qo’noS, then he and the strike team would most likely be dead.  The decision would be out of Khan’s hands in any case.

The plan went to shit before they’d even landed.

Amalia was piloting at low altitude so that they remained under the radar.  Sweat gleamed on her dark forehead as she weaved between pillars of rock to the coordinates Marcus had given them.  Suddenly, the entire ship veered sideways as a phaser beam exploded into the right side of their ship. 

Garbled language boomed from outside the ship, and Uhura’s eyes lit up.  “They want us to land and surrender,” she said, even as everyone reached for their weapons.  “I can try and reason with them.”

Amalia shook her head, staring straight ahead. “The coordinates are only three klicks away.  We can make it-“

Everyone’s eyes turned to Khan, whose eyes were closed in concentration.  He gripped a phaser tightly between his fingers for an instant but then slid it back into his jacket.  “Uhura. Please transmit to them that our ship is malfunctioning on autopilot and that we cannot land until we reach our destination.”

Spock nodded.  From there he continued, logically piecing together Khan’s plan.

“Since there is only one ship following us, we may assume that it is a random patrol and not a trap with Kirk as bait. Additionally, as Kirk is in such a remote area rather than a more secure facility or city, it is doubtful that he is working with the Klingons.  Once we land at Kirk’s coordinates, I estimate that we have favourable chances of convincing the Klingons to hand him over for both trespassing on their planet and ensuring that he poses no threat to Qo’noS.”  Khan nodded viciously in agreement.  “At least,” Spock added finally, “If I have not overlooked a crucial piece of information.”

“My thinking exactly,” Khan said, turning to his comrades.  “Can you do it, Lieutenant Uhura?”

There was no need to ask.  She was already punching in the codes that would allow them to send a direct message to the attacking ship.  “SoH copy maH.  wej Qap autopilot 'ej puv mojaq Quv tI' lup.  legh ngeH maH SoH HeghDI' clearance vo' SoH wIghaj Quv qar puH request maH.” Just as Uhura began to repeat herself, a garbled reply issued in return, and she paled ever so slightly.

“We have permission to land, but will… annihilate us if we deviate,” she translated soberly.  Khan sighed.  Not that he expected anything more. 

Carefully, they swooped around the harsh rock formations of the Klingon homeworld and landed in the center of what seemed to be a hollowed-out mountain.  The moment they touched down, Khan realized that they had made a horrible, terrible mistake.  Lining the edge of the semi-cave were three more Klingon ships from which the aliens practically flowed from like wasps from a nest. 

Spock looked pale.  “I… I believe we have been set up.  Although by whom I do not know.”

Uruha spun to Khan.  “Let me go out there.  You brought a translator for a reason.  Let me talk to them.  We have no connection to Starfleet.  They don’t have any reason to harm us.”

“Except if they feel like it,” Khan muttered.

“Captain,” Uhura snapped, “Let me _talk_ to them.”

Khan caught Spock’s eye.  He and Uhura were emotionally involved, but he still trusted the Vulcan to keep a cooler head than everyone else. 

“It will improve our chances of survival.”

“Fine,” Khan snapped, “the stage is yours,” he said to Uhura.  “But we’ll have your back in case this doesn’t go as planned.” 

She flashed the thumbs up, and in a false burst of bravado, plucked Spock’s 20th century shades from his head and put them on. As she strode outside confidently, Khan was busy passing his crew stun grenades in addition to the weapons they already carried on their person.  The Klingon ship behind them landed, and from it emerged a troop of the aliens who stalked over to where Uhura waited.  She addressed the leader, a hulk of a creature in armor made of sooty metal. Khan would have been hard pressed to seem unintimidated, but Uhura was almost as skilled as Spock in feigning nonchalance.

For this reason, it was difficult to tell just when the tensions reached a breaking point.  Khan didn’t speak a word of Klingon, but he understood the atmosphere perfectly when the lead Klingon grabbed Uhura by the throat and lifted her up in the air.

Spock was on his feet an instant before Khan himself hissed, “Go!  Go, go!”

It would have been too late to save her had not the room erupted in a shower of phaser beams for which Khan’s team was not responsible.

Several Klingons dropped to the ground immediately, but others threw themselves down in an attempt to gain a measure of cover. Then, Khan’s crew were out of the ship and their grounded targets were like sitting ducks.  Uhura knocked the Klingon that held her to the ground, reversing the knife that had been about to plunge into her throat and shoving it into her attacker.  For an instant, all seemed to be going well.  Then, the Klingons from the three remaining ships flooded down towards them. Glancing up, he saw a hooded figure wielding on a ledge with an anti-aircraft phaser.  The figure swung it around as if it weighed nothing. Blasts rained down on the Klingons, sending them flying in a shower of dirt.

“Split off!” Khan shouted, gesturing to a maze of rock formations nearby.  He glanced back up at their savior.  Several Klingons had climbed up to the man’s ledge – he was sure from the posture that it was a man – but the hooded figure swung the heavy gun into one of them and, lightning fast, drew a pistol and blew the two others away.

The group split; Spock, Uhura and Khan sprinted left while Kato, Amalia and Helga continued straight ahead.  To Khan’s dismay, they were still pursued by a dozen aliens. He and Spock twisted, shooting with well-trained precision and coordination, but they only managed to drop three before the Klingons returned fire. 

“Split off again!” Khan yelled as they approached a fork in the path.  “You two meet up with the others- I’ll circle around and take them from behind!”  Spock nodded dispassionately at this suggestion and dragged the Lieutenant down the right path.  Khan took the left and hid himself behind a column of jagged stone. Several moments later, he heard the Klingons dash after the sound of Spock and Uhura’s footsteps.  Khan made the mistake of not counting how many aliens passed him.  So, as he stepped out from behind the rocks, something hard smashed against the back of his ribcage, forcing all the breath from him.  He tumbled over, and the Klingon attacker leapt on him, bashing Khan’s pistol out of his hand and raking its nails over his thigh.  The alien had obviously lost his phaser too, although in the earlier scuffle by the ship, but his superior strength was easily enough to pin Khan to the ground.  He did not go down without a fight; Khan twisted his torso so that his shoulder smacked the other in the nose and followed it up with a brief knee jerk in the groin.

Somehow, the Klingon shrugged it off, raising an arm to smash Khan’s face in, or, more likely, behead him with his bare hands. However, this left Khan’s left arm free to grope around in his jacket for another phaser.  The Klingon was too quick and brought his fist down like the devil’s hammer.  It was only a last-minute twitch of the head that saved his life.  The Klingon had pummeled the stone next to his ear into dust! Khan tried to point the gun in the right direction, but his arm was pinned down by the alien’s bulk. 

Khan let out a roar of frustration.  A flash of orange light seared his retinas and suddenly the Klingon slumped, hundreds of pounds of dead weight crushing him.  The stench of burning flesh floated through the air.  And suddenly the heaviness was being lifted off him as if it were a bedsheet.  Once the Klingon’s body rolled off of him, Khan had a direct view of his rescuer. 

To his surprise, they wore much the same attire: 20th century, ‘arms dealer’ fashion.  Dark trousers, thin black shirt and a heavy duty leather jacket with metal zips and clasps for keeping the heat in.  A hood covered his hair and a scarf covered his face, leaving only his eyes visible.  Brilliant, sea-blue eyes.

Khan didn’t have enough breath to do anything but stare as the man tugged the scarf away from his mouth and kneeled to bandage up the vicious cut in his leg.  A strong, handsome face with a nose that matched and commanding eyebrows which contrasted with those eyes – they practically glowed, as if each were the Earth as seen from outer space. 

“Glad you could drop by for the shitshow, Captain,” said James Tiberius Kirk, grinning like a maniac. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please correct my Star Trek jargon p l e a s e I've been doing Star Wars my entire life basically and apparently Star Trek and Star Wars aren't the same


End file.
